


With This Demon Artifact, I Thee Wed

by kay_obsessive



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25538452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_obsessive/pseuds/kay_obsessive
Summary: “There seems to have been a, um, minor translation issue. The binding spell doesn’t just work to safely bind the artifact’s power; it also… well, it also binds those carrying out the ritual to each other.”“Like, ‘til death do us part’ binding? This ancient demon cult tacked on a quickie Vegas wedding clause to their stop-the-apocalypse spell?”
Relationships: Rupert Giles/Buffy Summers
Comments: 22
Kudos: 88
Collections: Just Married Exchange 2020





	With This Demon Artifact, I Thee Wed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melacka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melacka/gifts).



“Uh, Giles? Were we expecting this to happen?”

Giles was staring at his own wrist with a puzzled frown, which was not reassuring. “No, this is very much unexpected,” he said. He opened the book he had been reciting from during the ritual again and began leafing quickly through the pages. “Give me just a moment…”

Buffy shook her head and returned to examining the new mark on her wrist. At least it was kind of a nice design, deep red and black bands woven together in impressively intricate patterns. Way better than her last involuntary demon tattoo.

“Ah, here it is,” Giles said, and Buffy looked up. “There seems to have been a, um, minor translation issue. The binding spell doesn’t just work to safely bind the artifact’s power; it also… well, it also binds those carrying out the ritual to each other.”

That information settled in Buffy’s brain and worked its way to a logical conclusion. “Like, ‘til death do us part’ binding? This ancient demon cult tacked on a quickie Vegas wedding clause to their stop-the-apocalypse spell?”

“If you must phrase it that way.”

“And you’re calling this minor?”

“The world is no longer in the midst of ending, and neither of us is dead or missing any vital organs, so yes, I call that a minor mistake on our scale,” he responded irritably.

“Okay, that’s a good point,” Buffy admitted. She crossed her arms and let out a sigh. “So, how do we un-bind ourselves?”

“That’s going to require more research,” Giles said, and his eyes were back on the book in his hands.

“It always does. Guess I’ll call the gang and get them roped in. One good old-fashioned research party coming up.” Buffy began making her way down the hill toward the car while Giles crouched down to get a better look at one of the ancient stones making up the ritual site. She got about halfway there before an instinctive sense of dread swept over her, making her stop dead in her tracks. She turned. “Just how binding is this binding spell? Like, are we going to get an electric shock if we get too far apart or something?”

Giles frowned and stood up quickly. “I’m not sure,” he said, hurrying down the hill to join her, “but it’s probably best not to test it at this point.”

“So, your place or mine?”

“Buffy.”

She grinned. “Just teasing. But seriously, where are we holding this divorce trial?”

“Well, I suppose my place is traditional at this point.”

* * *

“You’re married to Giles?”

“Only kind of. It’s a whole ‘save the world but with a fun magic twist to keep it exciting’ thing.”

“So, you’re _married_ to _Giles_.”

Buffy sighed and gave up. Xander had obviously moved on from being grossed out by the idea to finding the whole thing hilarious, and there was no coming back from that.

And he wasn’t the only one cheerfully missing the point.

“So, are we gonna have a whole ceremony and everything? Because I call dibs on Best Bridesmaid.”

“That’s not what it’s called, Dawn, and _no_ , we are not having a ceremony!”

“Good, because me and Dawn would have had to have a fight over the Best Bridesmaid thing.”

“You’re really not helping, Willow.”

Willow just grinned, and then Xander chimed in again. “Come on, not even a little reception? Open bar, catered food – it’s the best part of a wedding.”

“Look, if I don’t get a tax break, you guys don’t get a party.” Buffy frowned as a new concern jumped to mind, and she turned toward Giles, who had his attention firmly on the book in front of him and was clearly doing his best to ignore the entire conversation happening around him. She was surprised he wasn’t cleaning his glasses. “We don’t get a tax break, right? This isn’t on any books anywhere, is it?”

Giles looked thoughtful and did not answer her right away.

“Okay, I was kinda hoping for an immediate, ‘Of course not, Buffy. Don’t be silly,’ here.”

“Sorry,” he said, and there came the cleaning of the glasses, “but there has been quite a lot of demon influence in this region, historically. Depending on the role this particular cult played, our, ah, ‘marriage’ could very well be on official record somewhere. No promises as to the effect on your taxes, though.”

“Great. Guess we’ll just add that to the list of things to worry about later. Hey, if nothing else works, maybe we can break the spell by just filing the right forms with city hall.”

* * *

When the house emptied out at the end of the day, none of them had found anything solid, but they did have a decent stack of ancient tomes with receipts and other makeshift bookmarks shoved in to tag promising leads for tomorrow. 

For tonight, they had another problem to work out.

Buffy watched as Giles took down a spare set of sheets and started setting up the couch with a vague sense of unease twisting in her stomach. “Looks comfy,” she said with a bit of forced cheer. “Thanks.”

He paused in the middle of fluffing a pillow. “I was preparing this for myself. You’re welcome to the bed, of course.”

“Giles, it’s your house; you don’t need to do that. We already take up enough of your space with the planning and research sessions every time an apocalypse comes knocking.”

“Well as you said, it is traditional,” he said drily, “but if you feel that strongly about the sofa, I won’t argue.”

Buffy hesitated. “Honestly? I’m not sure either of us should take it,” she eventually said. “We haven’t really tested the distance on this binding thing, yet. What if one of us rolls over in the middle of the night and we both get a zap?”

“We don’t even know if there actually is any sort of enforced distance limit on this spell.”

“Well, there’s definitely something. I don’t know if you could sense it or not, but I could feel it pulling at me just being on the other side of the room from you. Maybe this is just Slayer paranoia instead of Slayer instinct, but I’ve learned not to gamble on that.”

Giles stayed silent for a moment. Then he stepped closer to her, and Buffy felt herself relax. “And I’ve learned not to doubt your instincts,” he said softly, setting a hand on her shoulder.

Buffy smiled. “Some of my early instincts were definitely doubt-worthy,” she admitted, “but I feel pretty solid on this one. Anyway, we’ve both seen worse from each other than some old comfy pajamas, and I don’t think you snore, so this shouldn’t be too bad.”

* * *

Neither of them snored, but Giles did like to keep the lamp on and read before bed, because of course he did.

Buffy was too restless to try and fall asleep quickly anyway, so she found she kind of liked watching him, the slow, sleepy way his eyes drifted down the pages compared to the brow-furrowed concentration of his research reading during the day. It was a comparison she had never had the chance to make before. 

For all the time they spent together, not much of it was relaxed moments like this. Always frantically moving on to the next crisis, the next hellmouth, the next batch of young slayers. For the last few years, they had mostly been passing in and out of each other’s lives instead of being part of them. And she had barely even had time to realize that she had missed him.

There were worse ways a spell like this this could have gone.

* * *

They spent the first couple of days letting Willow do her thing, running through a whole long list of counterspells and hex reversals and separation incantations to see what could be done. They sat side-by-side or back-to-back or face-to-face. They held hands or touched palms or placed them flat on the ground at specific spots within a magic circle.

Buffy made yet another joke about the hokey-pokey, and Giles sighed heavily.

The skin around their tattoos itched a little during a few of the spells, but other than Buffy feeling like she might be on the verge of developing an allergy to some of the herbs and dusts being sprinkled over them throughout the days, there was nothing to show for it all. They were still demon cult married.

“Any other ideas?” Buffy asked as they wrapped up another session, brushing the rosemary or powdered newt or whatever it was out of her hair.

Dawn, watching like always from the front porch and looking pretty entertained, perked up and presented the fruits of her and Xander’s research labors. “We found another book by this same weird cult in Giles’ dusty attic while you guys were doing your magic square dancing. The translation’s not as good, but I think there’s something about severance in here.” She held the book up and tapped the page. “Hopefully it’s for bonds instead of body parts.”

“Hopefully,” Buffy repeated with a grimace. She took the book and stepped back so Giles could read it over her shoulder. “Long list of steps and ingredients. And it’s apparently supposed to be done on a new moon.”

“The next one is only a few days away,” Giles said. “I suppose it’s worth a try.”

* * *

It was not worth a try, and Buffy was definitely going to develop an allergy to something magic-y. They went back to the books.

* * *

Buffy watched Giles read again, now taking particular notice of the way his hands held the book and the slight tense and release of muscles in his arms each time he turned a page or shifted position to stay comfortable.

She had been noticing a lot of things like that over the last few nights. Maybe it was part of the spell, and maybe it was just what happened when you were a particular kind of lonely and sleeping next to the same person night after night.

But maybe it was something else.

From where her head rested on the pillow, Buffy could see the binding mark they shared on his wrist with each page flip. If she lifted her head, she would also be able to see the darker Mark of Eyghon on his other arm. She supposed they had shared that one too, once, but that part of their lives seemed like ages ago now. 

And she certainly hadn’t been taking this kind of notice then.

She’d realized early enough that a large part of her exaggerated but very real discomfort with anyone expressing attraction toward Giles had been a kind of possessiveness of her role. She was the Slayer, and he was her Watcher. It was why she had instinctively bristled at Kendra and Faith and even the first group of Potentials he’d brought to her door. Slayers were never meant to coexist and had definitely never been expected to share.

Now she wondered if the rest of it might have been denial.

She reached out to take his hand and pull it gently away from the book, turning it over so she could hold her arm next to his and press them together so their marriage tattoos rested side by side.

Giles looked at her oddly, but something in her expression must have told him not to question it. He closed the book and set it aside, and he joined her in staring at the symbol of their strange bond.

* * *

Eventually came the morning they gave in to desperation and tried the town hall method.

The clerk at the records office was excessively cheerful but also more than happy to help them.

“It would be under ‘Summers’ or ‘Giles’,” Buffy told her, and she quickly went to work on her keyboard.

After a few minutes, they had success. “Aha! Here we are. Buffy Summers and Rupert Giles married… aww, two weeks ago today!” She looked up and beamed at them. “Is that you two? Congratulations!”

Buffy shared a look with Giles. “Yep, that’s us,” she said. “How do we undo it?”

The clerk’s cheer wilted. “Oh. Um, let me find you the right forms…” She clicked a few times on her computer, and then her frown deepened. “That’s strange. There’s some sort of restriction on your file, and it’s too high level for me to do anything. I’ve never seen this before. I suppose I can give you a number to call to inquire further about this?”

Another look, and Buffy sighed. “No, that’s okay. Had a feeling it wouldn’t be this easy.”

* * *

“What if we just went with it?” Buffy suggested suddenly, propping herself up on her elbow to face Giles as they lay in bed.

Giles looked up from his book. “What?”

“The binding spell has got to have some kind of goal, and I don’t think it’s for the participants to lie motionless in bed a foot apart until they fall asleep every night.” She shrugged, trying to make the whole suggestion seem logical and casual. “So, why not try giving it what it wants and see if that works? ‘The only way out is through’ or something.”

He looked down as her meaning clicked. Glasses were fiddled with. “Buffy, I don’t think that’s a very good reason to… That might very well be a solution, but we’ve hardly exhausted all our options here, and taking our time doesn’t seem to be causing any negative effects. You shouldn’t have to… I mean, I think we’re fine to–”

“What if I said I wanted to?”

Giles stopped. He let out a soft sigh and slowly closed his book and let it rest on his thigh over the sheets, then lifted his head to meet her eyes. He looked prepared to say something else until he saw the look on her face. Instead he swallowed, took a slow breath, and asked, “Do you?”

Buffy did not give an answer. She sat up, then rose onto her knees. She pulled the book from his hands and set it on the nightstand behind her. Pressing one hand to his chest to urge him back against the mattress, she lifted the sheets to swing her leg over his hips, and she leaned in.

* * *

In the morning, Buffy woke pleasantly tired and stretched her arms over her head, then rolled over closer to Giles and rested her hand on his arm. An itchiness at her wrist caught her attention before she could fall back asleep, and she pried her eyes open. As she watched, both tattoos turned solidly red and then quickly faded away.

She smiled and yawned. “Trust my instincts,” she murmured, and she drifted back to sleep.


End file.
